The Problem with Enzo

Chapter 8: Game, Set, and Stolen Breath

His..

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Yellow – Coldplay

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Adore You – Harry Styles

▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။• Cake by the Ocean – DNCE

Enzo stayed back with the others while Ana took Lia up to their room.

He wasn’t sure when it became second nature to look after the kid—checking if she was comfortable, asking about allergies, making sure she had water. Lia was sharp for her age, but he could see the way exhaustion tugged at her small frame after such a long day.

Still… his eyes kept wandering to Ana.

She had this way of moving when she thought no one was watching—shoulders slightly hunched from the weight she carried, eyes softer, as if she finally let herself feel tired. But beneath that weariness, there was a fire. A quiet resilience. It made him wonder just how many storms she’d walked through without a single complaint.

That was what pulled him in. Not just her looks—though, God help him, those didn’t hurt—but the way she carried the world and still found ways to smile.

Then came that spa incident.

The moment she burst out into the lobby, cheeks flushed, eyes wide, stammering like she’d seen a ghost—well, technically, she’d seen him—Enzo knew she was mortified. He also knew he shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as he did.

But he did.

He caught her gaze in that split second before she bolted. There was shock, yes… but also that unfiltered honesty he rarely saw in people. No act. No mask. Just Ana, completely caught off guard. And for some reason, he was… grateful.

Grateful that it was him she’d seen like that, and not Matt or Chris—or worse, Brent, who would never let her live it down.

The thought of her walking in on any of them made something in him tighten. Irritation, maybe. Or something closer to jealousy than he wanted to admit.

He smirked at the memory—not because of arrogance, but because a small, selfish part of him liked knowing he’d left that impression on her. Liked the idea that, whether she wanted to or not, she’d think about him later.

For years, Enzo had been the one observing, calculating, always in control.

But with Ana?

She cracked something open in him.

She was complicated—soft and fragile in ways, but also unyielding. Quiet in her words, loud in her silences. And without even trying, she was pulling him closer, step by step.

Maybe it wasn’t just Ana who was getting under his skin.

Maybe Lia was part of it too.

Maybe, for the first time in a long while, Enzo didn’t just want to be the man who had it all—he wanted to be the man who showed up. For both of them

Then he spotted them—Lia skipping happily alongside Ana and Clarisse, making their way toward the group. Ana was dressed simply, wearing an oversized white shirt that hung loosely over thin silk wide-leg trousers. Her hair was tied into a messy bun, with loose strands framing her face softly. No makeup, no fuss—just her natural, effortless beauty. It was refreshing; he had dated women who wouldn’t step onto a beach without full makeup, but Ana simply looked real.

As they drew closer, Ana deliberately avoided meeting his eyes. Whether it was lingering shyness or annoyance from his earlier teasing, he couldn’t tell.

Enzo greeted first, his voice light. “Good morning, Lia. Did you have breakfast?”

“Yes, thank you,” Lia replied politely.

“Good morning to you too, min kära,” he added with a playful grin. “I hope you dreamed of me.” He winked.

The boys burst out laughing, Ashley shaking her head. “Stop teasing Ana already!”

Ana ignored him, but the faint flush creeping from her neck to her cheeks betrayed her.

Clarisse nudged her gently. “Enzo’s in a good mood today, huh?”

“He’s impossible,” Ana muttered.

“Maybe,” he said with a sly grin, “but you have to admit I’m a charming impossible.”

Ana bit her lip, looking away, fighting the smile threatening to escape.

Before the teasing could go further, Brent, lounging nearby, called out, “Lia, what do you think? Are we over here shipping your mom with Enzo for nothing?”

Ana’s head whipped toward her daughter. “Don’t mind them,” she said quickly, trying to sound casual.

Lia only shrugged. “He looks cool and kind—”

“—and handsome,” Enzo cut in smoothly.

Lia tilted her head, giving him an assessing look. “Hmm… yeah, can be.”

That earned him a chuckle, the sound warm and unguarded.

“And blessed!” Brent chimed in with exaggerated reverence.

The group erupted into laughter while Lia blinked in confusion. “Blessed with what?”

Clarisse coughed into her drink, Ashley waved her hand dismissively, and Enzo leaned forward with a smirk. “Never mind, little one. I’ll explain when you’re twenty-five.”

The laughter lingered as Micah stretched with a yawn. “Okay, who wants to play volleyball before lunch? The court looks decent, and the ball’s in the van…”

The volleyball court sat just fifty meters from the shoreline, one of the hotel’s perks for guests who couldn’t resist a little friendly competition. The sand was soft and pale, the faint scent of saltwater drifting in from the waves crashing lazily beyond. Palm trees framed the edges of the court, casting broken shadows across the white net, and the rhythmic calls of seabirds punctuated the warm late-morning air.

Chris immediately perked up. “Let’s go! I need to burn off this mango shake I just inhaled.”

Matt raised his hand. “I’m in. Let’s crush them.”

Enzo stood, stretching his arms, the faint breeze tugging at his shirt. His eyes flicked instinctively toward Ana. He didn’t expect her to join—she didn’t seem like the type to jump into group games, especially not with him hovering nearby, teasing her like some teenage boy with a schoolyard crush.

Ana didn’t look his way. She hadn’t looked at him all morning unless absolutely necessary. After the whole spa situation, he couldn’t blame her. Still, the memory made him grin.

Clarisse, however, wasn’t letting her off the hook. She nudged Ana’s arm with a knowing smile. “Oh, come on. Ana plays volleyball! She’s got legs for days—don’t let her fool you.”

Ana shook her head. “No, I’m good. I’ll just sit here with Lia.”

“But Mama,” Lia piped up, her small voice hopeful against the sound of the sea breeze, “you love playing volleyball!”

Every head turned toward Ana. She hesitated, caught between her daughter’s earnest plea and the amused grins surrounding her.

Micah, already bouncing the ball against the sand, added, “And I need someone competitive against my team, please.”

Ana sighed with mock exasperation before finally standing. “Fine. But I’m not dressed for this.”

Matt clapped his hands together. “Okay! But let’s make this interesting.”

Chris leaned in, smirking. “What, like a punishment?”

Micah’s eyes lit up. “Exactly. Losers pay for halo-halo and ube leche flan. And not just one serving—full dessert haul!”

The group groaned and laughed, the warm air practically humming with competitive energy.

Ashley raised her hand. “Alright, let’s make it fair. Team A: Matt, Micah, and Brent.”

Brent grinned. “Oho! The OG beach crew!”

Ashley turned to the rest. “Team B: Enzo, Ana, and Chris.”

Ana looked up in surprise. “What?”

Enzo smirked. “Looks like we’re teammates now, min kära.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but didn’t back out. Instead, she loosened the tie on her oversized, flowy trousers.

Enzo hadn’t been ready for what came next. The fabric slid down in one smooth, almost slow-motion fall, revealing long, toned legs that seemed to go on forever before ending at the curve of a dark green bikini bottom. Then—like she was oblivious to the chaos she’d just caused—Ana gathered the hem of her shirt and tied it into a loose, lazy not just above her waist.

The sun caught her skin, warm and golden, highlighting the faint stretch marks across her stomach like delicate brushstrokes. They didn’t hide her beauty—they told stories, made her real. Her hips curved in a way that made his mouth go dry, and for half a second he was sure his pulse had skipped.

Holy hell.

He swallowed hard, dragging his gaze up before his brain could start filling in the blanks. She wasn’t even trying, and still… She could probably walk into a room full of models and make them rethink their careers.

The corner of her mouth twitched—was that a smirk? Did she know what she was doing to him?

Enzo clenched his jaw and forced his eyes back to the ball in Chris’s hands.

Stop staring. For the love of God, stop staring.

Easier said than done when every cell in his body was screaming for one more look. The salty breeze carried the faint scent of her sunscreen, coconut and something sweet, and it didn’t help that she adjusted the knot in her shirt, making it ride just a little higher. He almost groaned out loud.

Control yourself, Enzo. This is a volleyball game, not a—

He shook his head, exhaling slowly.

…But damn, suddenly he didn’t mind losing, if it meant watching her move across the sand like that.

Ashley already had her phone out, snapping photos. “Okay, Lia and I will be your cheerleaders-s***h-hype team,” she announced.

“And Clarisse—since you hate running—guess what?”

Clarisse raised a brow. “Please don’t say referee.”

Ashley grinned. “You’re the referee.”

Clarisse groaned, grabbing a whistle. “Fine. But if anyone cheats, I’m calling it. Even you, Ana.”

Ana laughed, easing into the moment. “I don’t need to cheat. We’ve got Enzo and Chris.”

Chris gave her a dramatic thumbs-up. “We got this!”

Lia settled beside Ashley, the two of them cheering loudly, occasionally shouting tips. Ana bent to give her daughter a high-five before stepping into formation.

Matt called across the net, “Let’s make this fast. I’m already imagining my ube leche flan.”

Enzo shot Ana a wink. “Then keep dreaming.”

She looked up at him, cheeks flushed but eyes sharp. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you winked at me.”

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” he replied smoothly.

She shook her head, but the small smirk tugging at her lips didn’t escape his notice. The game hadn’t even started, yet the tension—playful, electric—was already pulsing between them.